I find myself perched on my bed, laptop resting on my lap, ready to dive into my Facebook feed. It’s Saturday at 9 a.m., and I’ve got one hour until I need to take my daughter to her piano lesson. I’m not claiming this isn’t the most ambitious plan, but as a 37-year-old full-time working mom, scrolling through Facebook is my closest thing to a social life. And let’s be honest, I saw you liked my last post, so you’re probably scrolling too.
While my husband has disappeared for his usual “chat with the governor,” my kids are peacefully playing in their rooms. I’ve already fed, dressed, bathed, and wiped everyone down, so I’m ready for a much-needed moment of peace.
When my husband finally emerges after 20 minutes, this is what unfolds:
Suddenly, my 4-year-old bursts into the room, “Mommy, can you do my hair? I want a side-braid like Elsa, but with this pink scrunchie!”
Me: gritting my teeth “Sure… just a moment.” (I braid furiously, tie it off, and then say) “Now, please go play.”
Husband: “Wow, I can’t believe you told her to go away. That’s not how we bond! This is family time, and you should be engaging with her instead of scrolling through Facebook.”
While he was busy enjoying his “me time,” I was interrupted countless times. Not an exaggeration; I actually kept count. In those same 20 minutes, I oversaw three costume changes, dealt with two snack requests, and mediated a few disputes. All in all, I barely managed to scroll through a single feed of updates.
If you’re the primary caregiver, you know this chaotic routine all too well. The moment we decided to bring children into our lives, we unwittingly signed up for a lifetime of interruptions. We juggle these daily challenges so often that they become invisible to everyone else. It’s not that we mean to become the family’s doormat, but between guilt and complacency, we often neglect our own needs without realizing it.
What if we took a stand? What if we collectively declared, “Enough is enough! I deserve time to myself to do whatever I please, including binge-watching cute animal videos!” What if we stopped racing around, fulfilling societal expectations of being the best versions of ourselves?
In our quest for equality and perfection, we sometimes lose sight of our true selves. My mother had no qualms about letting me roam the streets while she indulged in a romance novel, yet I struggle to carve out even three minutes to check my notifications.
Worse still, I’ve let my family forget that I have hobbies and interests beyond parenting.
This morning, as my husband observed me with a critical gaze, I slowly closed my laptop. Instead of lashing out, I took a deep breath and resolved to remind both him and the kids of everything I do for the family. I asked them to think back: when was the last time they did something nice for me? When did they let me sleep in or enjoy a meal without complaints? They squirmed at my questions, and I felt no pity for their sad expressions.
Afterward, I gathered every physical reminder of my maternal role—those old maternity pants, the dusty breast pump, and even the baby monitor that kept me on call 24/7. I marched them outside, prepared to make a statement.
But then I looked at my husband, feeling a mix of shame and resolve. Instead of acting out, I took a moment to gather my thoughts. I closed my laptop and went back to my family, ready to embrace the day.
Our mothers burned their bras. My generation burns itself out. Maybe they had the right idea after all.
This article was inspired by a post from BLUNTmoms. For more insights on pregnancy and health, check out this excellent resource on home insemination.
Summary:
In this candid reflection, Jessica Lane discusses the often-overlooked sacrifices mothers make while juggling family responsibilities. She emphasizes the importance of recognizing one’s own needs and taking time for self-care, all while navigating the daily chaos of parenting.